A Marriage of Convenience
by she walks by moonlight
Summary: To steady the wavering peace amongst the nations, a waterbender and a fire lord consider a marriage of convenience. Can love thrive between two old enemies? Zutara fic UPDATE! the wedding night is posted!
1. Visitor

A/N - Okay, this is my first Avatar fic. Please be gentle. The characters are pretty OOC, but it's entirely intentional. The story is set two years after the final battle (if my math is okay, Katara is about 17 and Zuko is 19). It's rated for some sensuality later on. Please read and review!

**_A Visitor_**

Over the rim of his teacup, Iroh watched his nephew with sympathetic eyes. The young man's face was tense and unmoving as he gazed into the fireplace, light reflecting in his steady gaze. Iroh could see from his solemn countenance and rigid stance that he was troubled.

The old general shifted in his seat and sipped his tea in thought. He knew that his nephew had grown into a just and powerful leader. Even more importantly, two years since the Avatar had appeared, Iroh found that the nephew whom he regarded as a son had grown into more than just a great leader. He had become a good man. Iroh cleared his throat, settling his teacup down onto the table before him.

"Zuko?" He questioned gently. Zuko's mind returned to the dim, fire lit study. He tore his eyes from the dancing flames before him and gave Iroh a tired smile.

"Yes, Uncle?" Iroh motioned him over to the table. Zuko obliged, settling heavily into the chair across from his uncle.

"You have been staring into that fire for some time, Zuko," Iroh observed. "I was just wondering what you were looking for."

Zuko pushed a hand through his dark hair. He had expected a question like this from his uncle, and yet he still found it difficult to answer.

"You know how our people have struggled with peace," he finally answered. "When the Avatar defeated my father a year ago, he said that he could bring peace, but we would have to keep it." Iroh nodded, reaching for his tea again.

"That is true. But this is not something you can be expected to do on your own." Zuko passed a hand over his tired eyes. Though the peace between the nations had remained, it was an unsteady peace. For Zuko this meant unending meetings, political acrobatics, and many sleepless nights. Despite all these efforts, there was still widespread mistrust of the Fire nation. And Zuko was tired.

"I just wish I knew a way to unite with the other nations. I wish our people knew how to keep peace. All they have ever known is war." Iroh opened his mouth to speak when there was a knock at the door, and one of the guards stepped inside.

"Fire Lord Zuko, a representative of the Northern Water Tribe." Zuko rose from his seat wearily, prepared to greet the next in a long line of political figures. His brow furrowed in confusion as he turned to Iroh.

"I don't remember a meeting for today, Uncle." Iroh only smiled. A moment later, a young woman stepped into the room. Zuko turned to her, prepared to greet her, and stopped short.

"Katara?"

There's the first chap! They'll get a little longer, I promise...


	2. A Proposition

**_A Proposition_**

There could be no mistaking her. Though she had grown into a young woman since last he saw her, Zuko remembered clearly her dark eyes so full of compassion and fierce bravery. Her dark hair was pulled back; the two strands that framed her face were carefully pinned to the side as they had always been. Her face was wiser. There was something else different about her, but he could not place it.

Zuko only stared at her in surprise for a long moment. Since the defeat of his father Ozai, Zuko had not seen Katara or her brother. He had heard that the pair of them became great leaders, claiming allegiance with both the Northern and Southern tribes and traveling between them. However, when representatives from the Water Nation came to him, they were always elders.

"To what do I owe this honor?" Zuko asked, finally composing himself. His composure was shaken again when she sank into a deep curtsy.

"Fire Lord Zuko," she began. Zuko stepped forward as though to lift her up, then stopped short.

"Please," he begged. "That is not necessary." Katara slowly lifted her head to meet his golden gaze.

"I have a matter of grave importance to address with you, Lord Zuko. I wonder if we could speak in private." At her words, Iroh rose to his feet at once.

"I will prepare a room for you, my lady. You must be very tired after your long journey." Iroh chuckled to himself at the terrified look on his nephew's face before exiting the room.

Zuko swallowed hard as Katara gazed around the room, her eyes finally resting on him.

"Please have a seat." He offered his Uncle's vacated chair to her and she sat. Rather than sitting across from her, Zuko hovered behind his chair. Katara smiled wearily at him.

"It has been a long time Zuko," she said. "I trust that now, in this time of peace, you won't try to blast me out of the room?" She chuckled at the alarmed look on his face.

"Of course not." He answered. Despite her jest, her voice seemed fatigued. "Why have you come here?" He asked, thinking a moment later that he sounded terribly accusatory. The weak smile fell from Katara's face.

"I have come here at the urging of my people." Katara's eyes dropped to the table before her. "I'm sure you know that there has been difficulty uniting the nations under this new peace." Zuko nodded.

"I was just speaking with my Uncle about that when you came." Zuko watched as Katara seemed to sink deep into her own mind. Finally, slowly, she rose and stepped closer to him. If he had wanted to, he could have reached out and touched her. She looked up, directly into his face, unflinching and determined.

"Zuko…I have come here because my people want true peace between the Nations. They believe a union between the two of us may be what the people need in order to accept this peace." For a long moment Zuko only stared into her eyes, so close to his.

"A union?" he asked, sure she could not mean what he thought she meant.

"It would not be so terrible," she answered quietly. Though she spoke calmly, Zuko thought he saw some fear behind her resolve.

"It would mean a new beginning for our people," Katara went on. She hesitated, looking down at her feet. "Please know that you may name the terms of this arrangement, and I will negotiate fairly. I would not even have to live here with you, as long as we made some public appearances together…" She trailed off, then took a deep breath before looking back up into his face. Zuko could not trust himself to speak.

"You need not decide this moment. Think about it. Could we meet again tomorrow?" Zuko nodded hastily, his voice still eluding him. She made a small bow and turned to leave the room. Zuko stood staring at the place she had stood long after she was gone.

: ) Is it getting good yet?


	3. Consideration

**_Consideration_**

The next day, Katara found herself entertained in Iroh's private quarters. She sat quietly, sipping from a cup of tea that seemed to never empty. Iroh filled the air with stories of years in the army, stories of Zuko's childhood; anything to pass the hours and distract the poor girl while she waited for an answer from the brooding young Fire Lord.

Despite Iroh's best efforts, Katara only acknowledged him with vague nods. Iroh knew better than to think that she was terribly interested in the tapestries hanging on the wall across from her. Her eyes were far away.

"If you will forgive my saying so, my dear, you seem not entirely yourself." Iroh paced across the finely furnished room, his eyes darting to the young girl. He noticed a drop of tea that she had bent out of her cup. It spun lazy circles in the air before her eyes, but she seemed not to see it.

"I have changed a great deal since last you knew me," she answered softly. Iroh hesitated. Though he wished to ask her what she meant, he felt wrong about it. If anyone should question her, it should be Zuko.

"Will you excuse me for a moment, Katara?" The young waterbender looked up with some concern, but Iroh smiled so warmly that she only nodded

Moments later Iroh let himself into the private study adjoining Zuko's bedchamber. He found his nephew in much the same state as the day before; he stood before his fireplace, his thoughts turned inward.

"Zuko?" Iroh questioned, moving into the room. "I want to talk to you about Katara." Zuko nodded but did not look away from the fire.

"Zuko, I can no longer deceive you," Iroh went on. "I received a letter from Katara two weeks ago, asking if she could come here." Zuko looked up at this, shock in his eyes, and confusion. Iroh remembered a time when such a deception would have been unforgivable, and Zuko would have been overcome with anger. Now, he simply furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Why did you keep this from me, Uncle?" Iroh lowered his head, his chest swelling with secret pride at the calm in Zuko's voice.

"Forgive me, Zuko. I was unsure how to approach you. I knew this matter was of grave importance, and you were already troubled." Zuko sighed and nodded.

"I understand, but it would have helped to have had some warning. I suppose you know of her proposal?" Iroh nodded at this, lowering himself into a chair.

"I came to tell you of my deception, but also to ask you…Do you notice how she has changed since we knew her?" Zuko clasped his hands behind his back, looking down at the floor as he paced. He voiced his thoughts softly and without hindrance, almost as though he spoke to himself.

"She seems…subdued. She was a fighter when last I saw her. Now she seems resigned. I would never have thought she would enter into a political marriage. I thought her to be more…passionate." This elicited a soft chuckle from Iroh, and Zuko colored slightly, falling silent. For a long moment nothing was said, as the two fire benders considered the young woman who had reappeared into their lives. Iroh scratched his beard, reflecting on the right words before speaking again.

"How do you feel about her, Zuko?" The question was blunt, and Zuko was somewhat taken aback. He resumed his pacing, his mind working over the idea. They had been enemies. For a long time, she represented the obstacle between him and the Avatar; she stood before his only chance for the restoration of his honor. He was sure that at that same time, he represented the nation that attacked and hated her people, the nation that took her mother from her. He supposed some of those old feelings would never disappear.

But now, in a time of peace…how did he feel about her? He held no doubts about attraction on his part. He had always felt strangely drawn to her, and she had grown into a lovely young woman. He had admired her strength and bravery when they had met years ago, and he respected the resolve and dedication to her people that he saw in her now.

They could not love each other, of that he was certain. Their pasts ran too deep, and their differences were too great. But Zuko had given up on the notion of love long ago…

Iroh cleared his throat, bringing Zuko back to the room and the decision lying before him.

"I must agree that a marriage between us would be advantageous. When she spoke to me yesterday, she seemed perfectly willing to play the part publicly." Iroh heard resignation in the voice of his nephew, much like what he had heard in Katara's voice. But then Zuko spoke again, softly.

"She is a worthy woman, Uncle." Iroh smiled at the flare of compassion in Zuko's eyes.

"Yes she is," he agreed, beaming. "And the two of you would make a handsome couple!" Iroh paused, sipping the tea before him. Zuko's cheeks flamed again, and he looked down, brushing at imagined dust on his robe.

"I think she could stay here with us at the palace. Don't you think so Zuko?" The old man said slyly. "At least for the first year. Perhaps for the second, you could go and stay in her palace. The city is beautiful, when you're not attacking it." When Zuko looked to his Uncle, he was innocently sipping his tea, looking at his nephew expectantly.

"I suppose…I could bring it up when I…speak with her." Zuko seemed uncertain. And perhaps hopeful? Iroh thought so, and it pleased him greatly.

"I think that is a good idea. You should speak to her soon, nephew. Do not keep the poor girl waiting." Zuko for a moment looked a bit panicked, and Iroh laughed again.

"Uncle, this isn't funny!" Zuko exclaimed indignantly. This only served to make his uncle laugh all the more.

"You should not be so nervous, Lord Zuko. After all, she is the one who came to you. She is just as resigned as you are!" Saying this conjured up the image of Katara as he had left her, and Iroh sobered.

"What is it, Uncle?" Zuko asked, seeing the swift change in Iroh's countenance.

"You should discover what is troubling her so, Zuko. It is as though all the spirit has drained out of her. Remember, she has been working for peace as hard as you have." Zuko pondered this for a moment, then strode briskly across the room, his mind finally made up.

"I will see her after dinner. Will you go and escort her, Uncle?" Iroh rose, following his nephew with an acquiescing nod. In his heart he rejoiced; his plan was set in motion.

Oh Uncle Iroh...you are so crafty!


	4. A Decision

**_A Decision_**

Some time later, Zuko was joined by his Uncle and Katara in the dining hall. They sat together to eat, and Iroh quickly began a conversation with several court advisors and generals who ate with them. The men laughed and passed ale, enjoying each others' company in the cheery room. At one end of the table, Katara's gaze was on her plate, though she could not bring herself to eat. Zuko sat at the opposite end, and struggled in his own mind with what to say to her. The air was tense between the two, though the rest of the men seemed not to notice.

Zuko grew more and more irritated with the easy laughter of the men. He watched the silent Katara, and he could see a great sadness that hung over her and weighed her down. Zuko felt a twinge in his heart, an unfamiliar sensation. Suddenly he found that he could bear it no longer. He rose quickly from his seat, and instantly the room quieted as the men all looked to their Fire Lord.

"Katara," Zuko said. She looked up at him then with large, liquid eyes. "Would you please come with me?" The men around the table exchanged glances as Katara gently set down her napkin, stood and walked to Zuko's side. He ushered her through a side door. Only when they had disappeared did Iroh begin to laugh heartily, while his friends urged him to explain the joke.

Moments later, Katara found herself in the private study of the Fire Lord. Her eyes drank in the rich leather furniture and heavy drapes. The room was dim and flickered with the light of the fireplace. Katara had discovered that the whole palace was dim, and everywhere she turned there was fire to light her way.

She gazed up at the bookshelves that reached to the ceiling and the rough hewn beams above. From these hung lanterns and long streamers of silk that rippled in the air stirred by their presence. It seemed strange to Katara to be in a place that was so personal to the Fire Lord; this room breathed in time with Zuko, and she supposed he must spend much time here.

"Will you sit with me?" Zuko asked, gesturing to two large cushions before the fire. It looked inviting, and Katara gratefully sank down into one plushy cushion. A moment later Zuko sat across from her. The cushions were positioned so close that their knees nearly touched. For a moment they both gazed into the fire, neither knowing quite where to begin.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Zuko asked finally.

"Yes, thank you," Katara answered. Another long moment of silence. Zuko looked up from the fire to study Katara's pensive face. Her smooth skin fairly glowed in the firelight, and her blue eyes seemed dark and heavy with thoughts. When she felt him watching her, she looked up and caught his gaze.

"I'm not sure where to start," Zuko admitted. Katara nodded, looking down at her own clasped hands, then back at him.

"There is much to say," Katara agreed. Her voiced lowered when she spoke again. "I know I'm asking a lot of you, Zuko. It's a lot to give up, but I would not ask you if I did not truly believe that it would help our people." Zuko felt like an absolute fool. Of course Katara must feel as though she was giving up everything in order to enter into a marriage with him, and yet she was considering his feelings rather than her own. But what sacrifice was there for him if they married? None. He sighed deeply.

"I am sorry, Katara. I know this must be a difficult decision for you." Katara opened her mouth as though to speak, before Zuko interjected. "But I believe it is a good one."

The pair lapsed into another silence. Katara seemed stunned, unsure she had heard him correctly. Zuko only gazed down into his lap, waiting for her to speak, fearing she might recant her offer.

"Does that mean you do wish to marry me?" Katara asked. Zuko looked up into her large, questioning eyes and nodded. She heaved a great sigh, and her eyes instantly filled with tears. Zuko leaned toward her, panic in his voice.

"Have I upset you?" He asked anxiously, cold ice stabbing at his heart. Was he truly that repulsive to her? To his great surprise, Katara laughed.

"No, Zuko," she said, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. "I am so relieved." Zuko sat back again, his confused mind scrambling to understand her.

"I…I admire your…dedication to your people…" he began haltingly. Katara peered into his face, and the look she gave him made him think that there was something important that he didn't quite understand.

"Oh, Zuko…" she said softly. Then, without the slightest hesitation, she leaned forward and placed one warm hand over his. Zuko felt the breath still in his chest. After a moment she drew her hand away.

"I suppose we should discuss what this will mean for us," Katara said finally. Zuko nodded. He could still feel where she had touched him. He took a deep breath, then spoke, hoping he would be able to convince her.

"You would not have to stay here if you did not wish to, but…but Uncle Iroh and I thought it might be good if you lived here in the palace with…with us." Katara agreed very hastily, or so it seemed to Zuko.

"Yes, I think that would be alright. We could always take trips to visit my people, but…but I would not mind living here with you." Katara looked down at her hands, flushing slightly. Zuko realized what she must be thinking, and twisted his hands together nervously.

"Right…I suppose we should talk about…about the wedding night." A smile tugged at the corners of Katara's mouth despite the sensitive subject.

"Yes?" She asked, looking up at him. Her eyes were free of guile, so Zuko could not believe that she was baiting or torturing him. The room felt suddenly very warm. Zuko cleared his throat, shifting on his cushion. He knew that he must say something, but words had fled him. For what seemed an eternity he merely gazed at her, helpless. A myriad of emotions played across her face, though he dared not try to name them.

"Katara," he said finally. "I understand the sacrifice that you are willing to make for your people, and…and I would never wish to…force you." Zuko looked up at her quickly, then looked away and spoke again quickly before she could interrupt.

"I believe that my court advisors will want proof of…of consummation, the morning after our marriage. And I would need an…an heir. It is a lot to ask, but I promise you I will only do what is necessary and nothing more." Katara shook her head in disbelief.

"Do you truly believe I am making such a sacrifice?" she asked. Zuko froze for a moment.

"You've seemed so quiet and distracted…so unlike your old self. I assumed it was a weary resignation to marry me in the interest of our people." Katara felt a twinge in her heart at the sound of his voice, so achingly sad, as though he never dreamed she could find happiness with him.

"Zuko, please understand, if I have been out of sorts, it has only been because I have feared your reaction to my coming here." Katara peered into his face, her eyes imploring. Her cheeks colored slightly when she spoke again, although she did not look away.

"Believe me Zuko, marrying you will be no sacrifice on my part." Zuko could hardly believe what he heard.

"But," he began, reaching up to touch his scarred face. Katara shook her head, reaching for his hand. Her fingers twined around his, not allowing him to hide his face.

"Do not even think that for a moment," she whispered.

"I have…wronged you," Zuko replied, his voice equally hushed. "We were enemies."

"Not anymore." She said earnestly. "I changed my mind about you long ago." Her words left a silence in which only the cracking of logs in the fire could be heard, and the beating of their hearts. After a moment, Zuko began to chuckle softly to himself. Katara looked at him questioningly.

"I was just remembering something I told Uncle earlier," Zuko said, his voice still hushed in the wake of what was forming between them.

"What did you tell him?" she asked.

"I told him I didn't think you would want to enter a political marriage." At his words, Katara smiled wryly.

"It wasn't exactly a childhood dream," she admitted, and Zuko laughed outright. Katara bit her bottom lip.

"This marriage might be political, but it doesn't have to be a cold, unfeeling thing," she said, looking down at their hands still entwined. "I would not want that for you, or me."

"Nor would I, though I cannot promise that I will love you," Zuko said softly. Katara smiled at him.

"I can't promise that either," she agreed. Zuko smiled briefly before growing serious once more.

"What I will give you, Katara, is a promise that I will respect you and your wishes. I will endeavor to make you happy and comfortable, and provide for you in every way. And I will protect you with all that is in me."

Katara could see how convicted he was. And though he insisted he may not love her, she could see a longing behind his eyes, and it gave her hope. She smiled and raised his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles.

"That is enough for me," she said, while Zuko watched her with disbelieving eyes. "I promise I will be the best wife I can, and do what you ask of me." She paused to look into his face. "And I will never turn you away from my bed."

Zuko's hand trembled a little as he lifted her hand and reciprocated her gesture, kissing her softly.

"Can this be happening?" he whispered, the warmth of his breath rushing across her fingers. "I feel as though it is a dream."

"It will feel real soon enough," Katara answered him. "Your uncle told me he would have us married as soon as you accepted." Zuko nodded thoughtfully, allowing himself a small smile.

"Knowing my uncle, he'll have us married by tomorrow afternoon." Zuko looked up at Katara. "You're sure of your decision? After we marry there is no going back." Katara felt that tug at her heart again. Though she was sure he would hide it, she knew to reject him now would destroy him.

"I'm sure, Zuko." She paused, then looked at him with the question brimming in her eyes. Zuko's stomach leapt up into his throat at the thought that she worried he may deny her.

"I'm sure too," he said, and he saw her eyes light at this. Rising from his place, he drew her up. "It's late. Let me escort you to your room."

The pair of them left the study and traversed down the dim halls, Katara's hand resting lightly on his arm. When they reached her door, she looked up at Zuko.

"Thank you for coming, Katara," Zuko said, his voice low and husky. Katara felt tears sting behind her eyes, but she held them.

"The honor is mine, Zuko. I think if we remain as honest with each other as we were tonight, we should not have too much trouble." Zuko smiled.

"That sounds fair," he agreed. Katara was about to turn and open the door when she paused, looking back up at him again.

"Maybe we should seal this agreement with a kiss," she offered with a half-smile. Zuko did not hesitate, but dipped his head to kiss her mouth. It was brief and soft, and Katara thrilled at the sensation, her heart beating wild in her chest.

Zuko straightened and looked down at this girl who was to be his bride. He had never before in his life been touched the way she had touched him that night. No woman had ever asked him for a kiss before. Zuko felt a storm in his mind and heart, and it took all of his self-control to keep from taking Katara in his arms. He gave a small bow and bid her goodnight. As he walked away, her words echoed in his mind. _I will never turn you away from my bed._

Down the hall, Iroh watched the pair with shining eyes. When Zuko had gone and Katara had disappeared into her room, the old general laughed with glee and set about rousing the servants. There was much to be done.


	5. The Wedding

_**The Wedding**_

The next morning, Katara woke to a flurry of movement. Maids scurried about her room, bringing a tub and filling it with pitchers of hot water. Two girls approached Katara and urged her out of bed, shaking the linens as soon as they were no longer occupied. Another maid swooped in and ushered Katara to the steaming tub.

"What's going on?" Katara asked, still shaking the sleep from her eyes. The girls smiled to each other as they took her wrap and she lowered into the milky water. One of the maidservants knelt by the tub and handed Katara a sponge.

"My lady, we must get you ready for your wedding," the young woman said with a smile. Katara froze for a moment, then slowly continued to run the sponge along her arms.

"When is the wedding?" she asked softly. Vaguely she noticed that the water in her bath smelled of lavender. She wondered at how they knew to use the scent of the flower she had always loved.

"Today, my lady," the girl said, sounding a bit astonished. "In only four hours' time." Katara looked over her shoulder out the window. She had slept late, deep and dreamless. She supposed it was nearly midday.

Katara sank down into the tub, submerging her hair in the sweet smelling water, and let the girls take over. In moments they had her scrubbed clean. Though Katara had retreated deep into her own thoughts, she had the presence of mind to waterbend the moisture from her hair and body, leaving her warm and soft and ready for her dress. The maidservants pulled the simple gown, pure white, over her head. It was billowy and lacy, clinging to her curves and falling gracefully past her ankles. Her hair was plaited into a single braid, with white flowers woven in. A simple strand of pearls adorned her neck.

When she was dressed, a woman entered the room and asked for Katara's hands. In accordance with the traditions of the fire nation ceremonies, the woman proceeded to paint Katara's hands with henna, all the way from her fingertips to her wrists. The designs were beautiful. In the center of her right palm was the moon, the power of her people, and on the left was the sun for the firebenders. All along her fingers were lovely swirling designs that looked like fire and water mingled together. When the woman had finished she left, and Katara gazed down at her open hands. She wondered what it would be like to hold Zuko's hands in hers and make her promises to him.

As the girls continued to bustle and chatter all around her, Katara sat serenely in thought. She had supposed that she would be nervous or frightened, facing this future with one she used to call enemy. But remembering Zuko's voice, his eyes, his kiss…she could not be afraid of him. She could only wait calmly for her moment, and imagine standing beside him. She could only realize that even if Zuko could never love her, she already found herself falling in love with him.

Time, which had seemed to stretch endlessly before her moments ago, now doubled back upon itself. Katara took a deep breath, and the girls had surrounded her and swept her out into the halls. Another breath to steady her nerves, and they were emerging from the dim castle into the courtyard. Katara felt the air leave her body at the sight.

From where she stood, just outside the great doors, she could see below the courtyard was filled with fire nation subjects, silently watching her. The marble steps that led up to the doors was lined with court officials and war generals, all dressed in full regalia. General Iroh stood at the head of these, beaming proudly. And several feet from Katara, next to the clergyman and his book of psalms, stood Fire Lord Zuko. He was dressed in red robes with a black sash, and a thin gold band circled his head. Katara had never seen him look so handsome, and she averted her gaze lest she draw attention with her stares. As the girls lead her across the white marble toward her future husband, Katara's eyes were drawn to the red sky. The setting sun was brilliant, casting gold and red across the world. Almost as if she heard a whisper, Katara glanced over her shoulder. At the other edge of the world, the moon was rising, full and white. A small smile crept over her face. Moon and sun, sharing the sky.

Katara turned back and stilled her feet. Her gaze met with the black embroidered dragon splashed across the red cloth of Zuko's robe. The pair stood facing each other, she flanked by young fire nation servants, and he alone but for the holy man who soon would join them. Katara summoned all of her strength and raised her eyes to his.

Zuko's gaze crashed into her, stirring her deep inside. She had been afraid, before she looked at him, that his eyes would be hard, or disappointed, or worst of all, empty. But they were not empty. They were warm and beautiful, and the look that he gave her was like none she had ever seen. Though she could not for the life of her put words to it, there was something there that made her heart pound in her chest and her stomach leap into her throat.

Zuko swallowed hard as the priest stepped closer to them. How could she be so beautiful? His gaze slid over her smooth, black hair. He longed to touch the brown shoulder that peeked out from the low neckline of her pure white dress. She was looking up at him, a half-smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. Zuko decided in that moment that if he was dreaming, he never wished to wake.

Iroh made his way to the pair of benders as the priest opened his book. The old general stopped before them and rested his hand on Zuko's shoulder for a moment. However, when he spoke, he addressed Katara.

"I am sorry that your father cannot be here today," he said. Katara looked down at the white lily in her hand, and nodded. "I hope you will let me stand in his place, and give you to my nephew?" Katara looked up at this, into Iroh's dear smiling face.

"Of course," she whispered. With a soft smile, she slid the flower she held into his sash. Iroh took her hand in his, his eyes misty. The priest began to speak his great words, but Katara was looking at Zuko and could barely think.

Iroh produced a cup, and Katara bent the water out of it into thin ribbon that snaked around her hand, just as the girls had instructed her to do that morning. Zuko summoned a ball of fire that spun on his open palm. As the priest read words of love and union, Iroh drew their hands together. Katara looked down at the ever-feuding elements, then up at Zuko. Their fingers met.

The fire hissed and disappeared; the water turned to mist and was caught up into the sky. All that was left was their hands interlocked, fingers clinging as if to life itself. It was only then, grounded in touching Zuko, that Katara heard the words of the priest.

"Fire Lord Zuko, you have taken this woman's hand. Do you now take her as your wife, to love and honor, cherish and protect, for as long as you both shall live?" Katara looked from their hands entwined to Zuko's face. If only the priest had not said love!

"I do." Zuko's voice rang clear across courtyard, and where Katara had feared there would be cries of protest from the crowd, there came only the sweet murmur of ladies' sighs. Zuko's eyes were fixed on hers as the priest turned to repeat his words.

"Lady Katara, you have taken this man's hand. Do you now take him as your husband, to love and honor, cherish and serve, for as long as you both shall live?" In that moment, looking up into Zuko's face, a flood of memories filled Katara; memories of war and violence, of loss and pain and despair. In that world, she and Zuko would never be together. But this was a new world.

"I do." The two looked at each other in the echo of her promise. The priest pronounced them man and wife, and the entire assembly burst into applause that washed up over the pair. A tear ran down Katara's cheek as she laughed, while Zuko slipped a ring onto her finger with a trembling hand. His smile was like a burst of sun, and flower petals rained down from the towers of the castle as Katara bestowed his ring upon him. Over all the joyous sound, the priest commanded the Fire Lord to kiss his bride.

The people down below rose from their seats, their cheers swelling to fill the dusky sky as Zuko pulled Katara close and kissed her laughing mouth. This kiss was again brief, but this time it tasted of sweet promises and a hint of smoke.

Well, I've got one more chapter...the wedding night. It's not too naughty, I'll post it if I get reviews and people seem to want it. Hope this was okay!


	6. Perfection

A/N : Alright, here's the wedding night chapter. I think the story ends here, but since you reviewers are so nice, I might write a new one. Thanks, and please keep reviewing! Oh, and there's some sensuality in this chapter, just to let you know!

Disclaimer: Sorry, forgot this, but it applies to all chapters. I don't own Avatar or any of it's characters.

**_Perfection_**

The night was filled with revelry. Everyone from Zuko's great city had dressed in their finest gowns and robes and come to the castle to celebrate the marriage of their Fire Lord. The great hall was a kaleidoscope of music and laughter. People ate, drank, and made merry. Zuko and Katara danced together, laughing and smiling as they spun across the floor, and people whispered behind their hands how lovely the bride was. Any who mentioned that she was Water Nation was quickly shushed and sent for more punch.

As Zuko took Katara's hand and led her into another dance, he noticed that her eyes were beginning to glaze. When he looked on her in concern, she smiled up at him sleepily. They both had sampled wine brought from the city's prized vineyards, but it was the fatigue of the eventful day that tugged on Katara's eyelids. Zuko smiled warmly as they stepped in time with the music.

"Are you tired?" He leaned close to her to speak into her ear above the noise of revelry. Katara laughed a little, vaguely registering Iroh's hoarse voice belting out a bawdy song.

"I am. It has been a long day." Zuko nodded, and twirled her to the side, away from the other dancers. Raising one hand, he signaled two of Katara's maidens.

"I'll ask these girls to show you to…" Zuko paused and Katara looked up at him, her hand still resting against his chest.

"My room," he finished, watching her face to gauge her reaction. Her eyes seemed to widen a bit, but they softened as she looked into his eyes.

"Alright," she said. The girls had appeared at her side, and Katara was about to turn and go when her fingers tightened their grip on his robe.

"Will you join me soon?" she asked, and Zuko could feel her fingertips through the fabric of his robe. He nodded, his words lost. Taking her hand from his chest, he kissed it gently. Katara smiled at the gesture, and let the girls lead her away from the party.

If Katara had been awed at Zuko's study, she felt an almost holy reverence as she was ushered into his room. Katara gazed around her with wide eyes, lifting her arms like an obedient child as the maidservants stripped her of her wedding dress and replaced it with a shorter and simpler nightdress, all clinging white silk.

The girls swept across the room, and Katara opened her mouth to call them back, not wishing to be alone. Just as they reached the door, however, it swung open, and Zuko stepped inside. The girls curtsied deeply before scurrying past the young Fire Lord, leaving him with his new bride.

Katara took a step toward him, then stopped, her fingers twisting together before her. Zuko stood for the longest time, simply gazing at her. His eyes were unreadable, and for a brief moment Katara panicked and wondered if all this had been an act and he was going to burn her alive.

But when he stepped toward her, she saw the hesitation he tried to keep from showing in his face. His dark hair fell across his forehead, covering much of his scar. He looked so young and so handsome, standing straight and tall in his ceremonial robes. Katara suddenly felt very underdressed in her plain white shift, and became all too conscious of her bare legs and the nightgown's daring neckline. Finally, she could bear it no longer.

"What do we do now?" she asked softly. She watched in relief as Zuko's shoulders relaxed and he smiled. Katara sucked in her breath when he strode toward her, stopping only a foot away. Looking down at her, he held out his hands, and she took them in hers.

"You have heard of such things before?" he asked. Katara felt her face grow warm.

"Yes," she answered.

"Are you afraid?" Katara looked up at him, into those impossible golden eyes.

"A little," she said quietly. "Are you afraid?" Zuko shook his head no, and Katara saw him half-smile in the dimness.

"A little," he answered her, and Katara couldn't keep the smile from her face, though she looked away as though upset.

"Don't tease me, Zuko!" she said indignantly, but he saw her smile and released her hands to turn her head back to him. Katara gasped in surprise to find his mouth on hers, a sound he muffled as his hands framed her face. His thumbs stroked her jawline as he kissed her, and she relaxed into him. After a long, sweet moment, he drew back and looked into her eyes. Her breathing had grown shallow.

"You've done this before." She accused huskily. He only gave her that heart melting grin again and shook his head. His eyes were drawn to her mouth as she licked her lower lip. She watched the amusement on his face give way to something deeper, something she could only describe as need.

Zuko leaned in again, kissing her mouth once, and then again and again. His hands were at her waist, dragging her body against his. Katara did not hesitate this time; she did not think. Her hands were in his hair, sliding through the silkiness of it. She felt the roughness of his hands against the small of her back through the fabric of her shift. She felt so exposed, but did not want to hide. She wanted, instead, to expose him too. She wanted so much. Things she had never thought she would want now coursed through her like her very blood.

Zuko's hands were back on her face. He angled his lips against hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Katara thrilled at the taste of him, that faint smoky taste that seemed so forbidden. Zuko was insatiable. He could not get enough of her cool skin, of her taste like the sweetest water.

Katara took hold of the black sash around his waist. With a gentle pull, it came loose and tumbled to the floor. His robe fell open, revealing his pale chest and the satiny black pants he wore beneath. She pushed the robe down his arms, and finally he realized what she was doing and broke the kiss. They stared at each other, their breaths coming short and fast.

He had more scars. Katara could see that these had come from war. His chest was peppered with silver lines, and one long scar sliced across his side. Zuko looked down at himself, and felt the strongest urge to grasp his robe and cover himself again.

Katara reached out to him, her fingers brushing the scar above his lean hip. She watched the flatness of his stomach tighten when she touched him, and looked up. When his eyes met hers, she slowly shook her head.

"Zuko," she began, and his eyes closed briefly as the sound of her voice wrapping around his name tore through him. She reached up, now touching the scar his father had bestowed, the scar that had marked him as a failure. His eyes opened again.

"Wash the shame from your eyes," she whispered. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." Her other hand joined the first, framing his face. One tear slid down his cheek as he looked at her, entirely at a loss.

"I'm…look at me Katara." His voice was low, and it sank deep down into Katara's body. She obeyed, her eyes roaming over him. He was all hard muscle and pale skin, scarred and strong and entirely hers. She braced one hand against his chest, over his pounding heart.

"I can see you, Zuko," she said. "You're beautiful."

Leaning into him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheek resting on his shoulder. His arms engulfed her waist and they stood together, so close it was as if they had become one being.

Zuko didn't know how long they stood like that. Katara finally pulled away, her hands sliding down his arms to catch his fingers. He thought he saw the tiniest bit of fear creep into her eyes, and she glanced over her shoulder at the bed behind them.

"It's alright," he whispered, reaching down to scoop her up into his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her down. Standing at the bedside, he leaned over her, kissing her upturned mouth. His hands slid down the length of her body until they reached the hem of her nightdress. Katara arched her back as his fingers coaxed their way up her bare thighs. He peeled the nightdress away, and when he rose again, she lay before him, all soft and brown and lovely.

Katara watched as his eyes devoured her, and though she had never before lain naked before a man, she was not afraid.

"Look, Zuko," she whispered, and touched her rib. Zuko saw there, beneath her breast, the long white mark of a scar. "I'm not perfect either," she told him with a wry grin. He leaned down to press his lips there.

"Yes you are," he whispered against her skin.


End file.
